Seasons
by LunaLovegood1997
Summary: Matt likes Mello. Mello likes Matt. They don't know the other likes him. Four individual stories themed on seasons. Spring and winter are Matt, summer and fall are Mello. Read and review. No flames. I have pancakes and am willing to bribe. Warning: Matt and Mello have no language filters. Love and sparkles !
1. Spring

Spring

I like spring. Why? I like flowers. There, I said it. That sounded gay, right? Yeah, I am. I like flowers. They're so pretty and happy and wow I'm stupid. Matt's my name, and I'm a closeted flower-lover. And Mello-lover, but that's another story.

Oh, what the hell. (Wow, I'm hanging around Mells too much…)

I've been infatuated with Mello since the day we met. It was spring. It was sunny. Mello's hair was shiny. I was a stupid seven-year-old. He came from a screwed up home—abusive dad and stoner mom. Dad killed mom, raped son. He told me. I wonder if that's why he's such a sexual person. I've heard stuff in psych class (hey, I'm allowed to listen sometimes!) about that. Sexual…

Matt, shut up.

Oh god, I'm talking to myself.

The hair obsession grew into a crush. When I was ten, I realized I was gay for Mello. I freaked out. It was Easter and I had given Mello chocolate. He gave me a huge hug and I got a weird feeling inside. I was ten, so it wasn't sexual attraction. More emotional and intellectual. Mello's really smart. I love that we can have intelligent conversation.

Spring is a nice season, don't you think?


	2. Summer

Summer

I like summer, because I can stay my distance from Matt and blame it on the heat. Yes, I love him. Yes, I want him. But please. What am I supposed to do, become a creeper and kiss him? Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it. This is a problem.

I know now why lust is a sin. It's painful and it's cruel. Love? Lust? Puppy crush? Love, I think. Maybe a little lust mixed in, because I want him terribly. He stands there and he looks at me and holy crap I'm blushing and this shouldn't be happening because I am Mello and Mello doesn't blush. He's looking at me now like never before and I'm worried he knows. If he knows, I'm done for. He doesn't love me, of course. I love him, yes, but it would be foolish to even hope that he'd love me. That doesn't mean I don't still love him.

But it's wrong, right? Bible says so, right? But I'm going to Hell already, if there is one. Let's dissect the Commandments.

There is only one god. Well, shit. I as good as worship chocolate. God zero, Satan one.

Don't take the name of the lord in vain. Um… sorry? Am I supposed to say "oh my gosh?" What am I, a ten-year-old girl? God zero, Satan two.

Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy. Let's see what I've done on a Sunday. Yeah. Kids read this stuff, so I'll shut my face now. God zero, Satan three.

Honor your mother and father. My father beat me and my mother was addicted to weed. Honor? Please. God zero, Satan four.

You shall not kill. So far, I'm good. But if Near pushes me any more… I've had thoughts. Does that count? I'll give them both a point, I guess. God one, Satan five.

You shall not commit adultery. I kissed the brains out of a random guy in a deserted hall once. He had a girlfriend. I pretended he was Matt. God one, Satan six.

You shall not steal. Hey, chocolate is an addiction. How am I supposed to get by on the measly allowance that asshole Roger gives us? God one, Satan seven.

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. See previous. I blamed it on Near. God one, Satan eight.

You shall not covet your neighbor's wife. I'm jealous of every damn kid Matt's ever dated. God one, Satan nine.

You shall not covet your neighbor's goods. Please. This one chick has a leather bike jacket and damn I want it! According to Roger, leather isn't appropriate for a guy to wear. Roger can go fuck a duck for all I care. God one, Satan ten. Shit.

Let's recap. If there's a Hell out there, I'm going. It can't possibly be hotter than Matt's and my room (attic rooms suck), but the concept of fire and brimstone isn't pleasant. Well, happy summer.

Screw the Bible. Screw the church. I've got Matt—I hope.


	3. Autumn

**A/N: This one's Mello, so winter will be Matt! Almost done!**

It may not surprise you to hear that autumn is my favourite season. First of all, Hallowe'en. It's a holiday dedicated to candy. You can be sure that nobody else in Wammy's has any chocolate on November 1. Don't worry, I do (pretty) fair trades. Also, Matt dresses as some random character from some manga or other (he reads gay manga, which I find odd and reassuring at once). Do you know how damn good he looks in tight pants? As in, tighter than usual? Damn...  
Enough. Apart from Hallowe'en, I like autumn because we're encouraged to take walks through the leaves. I take along Matt- to get him outside, I say. It's really to get him alone. I keep hoping he'll say something. No chance in hell.  
I like to look at leaves and try to find one that matches Matt's hair. I never can. Most are too brown, but the ones that look like they could be red enough are too red. Oh well. It gives me a chance to play with Matt's hair. God, he has pretty hair. He says he likes my hair, but he's the one with awesome hair. It has that "I don't care how I look but I still look completely sexy" look to it. He has fangirls. And a few fanboys. I'm serious as shit. Even the guys I've dated liked his hair. And they had all this. Um... I'm gesturing towards my face and hair. But really, I do like autumn.


	4. Winter

**A/N: Last installment, woohoo! I actually wrote this one first, so the writing style is a little different.**

Winter is my favorite season. When else do I have an excuse to stay inside all day? Nobody cares if I'm playing video games, unlike in the summer, when Roger gets on me about going outside.

And I have something else—no, someone else—to keep me company. Mello stays inside in the winter, something about chapped lips? Lips… I have to actively steer myself away from thoughts about Mello's lips. Because I know that Mello doesn't want me. Doesn't like me. But when the heat is turned down at night and Mello snuggles into my side, I can't help but think that we just might have something.

No. Mello is Catholic. Catholic means not gay. Catholic means hate gay. And having a powerful friend, though not as good as having a powerful boyfriend (here I slaps myself mentally because damn that sounds sexy and Mello's in the room), is better than having a powerful enemy. A powerful enemy with whom you are in love—that's a sad thing indeed.

Maybe winter isn't my favorite season after all. The work it takes to stay away from Mello is enormous. Sometimes… sometimes I feel like I'll go crazy. I have to figure something out. Is keeping a secret from your best friend every day of your life really better than just getting it out there and having a bittersweet enemy?

Then again, just being with Mello is better than being avoided. I love Mello more than anything. I would give anything to see him happy like he was on Valentine's Day that year when I bought him chocolate. I had presented it as a gift of friendship, but it was something completely different. This chocolate was a gift from what would be a lover. Fourteen years old and confused and in love. I have to do something about this.


End file.
